Cambria
It was Monday morning, and I was in the middle of my morning coffee break.
As I savored the pumpkin spice creamer, I considered making a pumpkin roll or loaf, but then my phone rang.
Picking it up, I looked and noted it wasn’t a local number or one I recognized.
I answered, but figured it was a spam call.
“Hello,” was all I said.
“Why did you do it?” a low, male voice in a whisper responded.
“Excuse me? Do what?” I asked despite my brain telling me to hang up and not engage this nut job.
“Don’t play stupid. You know what you did. I hope you die, bitch,” he snarled.
Without another word, I hung up on him. After I did, I immediately went into my phone and blocked that number.
What the hell? Not the way I wanted to start my week. I chalked it up to someone randomly calling people, trying to get a reaction.
Twenty minutes later, my phone rang again. I answered to find it was a woman. “How dare you be happy and do what you want. You don’t deserve to be free,” she snapped. Jesus Christ, another one!
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t call me again.” I disconnected the call without waiting for a reply, then blocked it.
However, if I thought that was the end of it, I was wrong.
In four hours, I had ten calls. They were from a mix of phone numbers and area codes.
They were both men and women. All were nasty, wishing my death and spouting off about how I didn’t deserve my life.
It wasn’t until the final one that I was given the clue to tell me what the calls were about.
“Bitch, You don’t—”
I cut her off. “Listen, I’m tired of being called names. I have no goddamn clue what any of you are referencing. Tell me what I supposedly did that’s so awful in your opinion,” I snapped.
“You turned him in. You sent Garen to prison,” she hissed.
I stopped breathing. My heart skipped a beat, and as I sat there, the screams in my head grew louder, and eventually, my vision became fuzzy. That was when it dawned on me I hadn’t taken a breath. I inhaled raggedly. The woman was still on the other end, spewing vile threats at me.
“Who did I send to prison?” I asked, hoping I’d misheard her.
“Oh, stop with the game. I know who you are. You thought you could hide and get away with what you did, but we now know who you are. You sent Garen Brooks to prison. You should burn in hell for betraying him like that. Why did you do it?” She shrieked the last part.
I didn’t bother responding. I fumbled to hit the end button, then blocked that number.
Unable to handle more, I put my cell on mute and got to my feet.
I paced the cottage. I was shaky, but I couldn’t sit still.
Everything said today raced through my mind.
And the last one… God, tell me it isn’t true. Tell me they haven’t found me.
Running back to my desk, I got online. It didn’t take much sleuthing to discover my worst nightmare had come true.
Somehow, my carefully constructed life, the one I’d lived for the last fourteen years, had fallen apart.
People were posting online in the groups dedicated to Garen Brooks’ fans.
They were gleeful that I was found, and the hate they spewed made me sick.
I ended up puking in my wastebasket after reading one graphic post about what that person wanted to do to me.
How did they know? How had I been exposed?
What if one of these crazy fans found where I lived?
As I thought that, I raced to the table by the front door.
I removed the gun. Instantly, I was more secure.
My hysteria was easing, so I was able to think.
It took me barely a minute for my brain to come back online.
And when it did, it was clear as day to me.
The lurker I’d been dodging all over online had somehow found out my secret.
The son of a bitch, whether male or female, had doxed me.
I never thought I’d be a victim of doxing, which is revealing someone’s ID information online.
That could include your home address, phone number, personal details, Social Security numbers, bank and credit card information, criminal history, private correspondence, workplace details, and more.
I went to get my phone. I picked it up as if it would bite. Going to my bedroom, I lay on the bed and called the one person I could share this with. When she answered, I burst into tears. I wailed.
“They know. They know who I am, and it’s all over the dark web. Oh my God, they found me, Brae.”
“Whoa, wait, Cambria, stop crying and tell me that again,” Brae ordered. Her firmness helped me regain control.
“I’ve been getting weird, threatening calls all morning from different people I don’t know. It wasn’t until the last one that I figured out why. They’re those fucking psycho groupies of Garen’s. They somehow know Cambria Mulally used to be Journi Brooks. My life is ruined.”
The hysteria was fading, and numbness was taking over. It was as if someone else were speaking to her. I was merely observing from a distance. I was dissociating.
“Cambria, take a deep breath. Now, listen to me. You’ll be okay. We’ll find whoever did this and make them pay. In the meantime, do you think they know where you live? Are you safe?”
“I don’t know. From what I saw, I didn’t see my address, but it’s only a matter of time.
I have guns, and I know how to use them.
I’m pretty sure the one who did this to me is that online fucking stalker I told you about.
It had to be. They somehow penetrated my backstory and saw through it.
It would take more than your average person to do that. ”
“That makes sense. I want you to prepare to have company. And I’ll ask Outlaw and even Shadow to find out who this person is.”
“Company? No, please don’t you dare drag your newborn here,” I pleaded.
“No worries, I won’t. The Pagan Souls in Oconee—the club mom is part of—is the closest to you.
I think it’s about a two-and-a-half-hour drive.
I’m calling Daddy Rage to see if someone there will help, and if he can get Shadow and Crusher to work on finding this bastard or bitch.
Crusher is another one in their club who’s into computers. You’ll know them by their cuts.”
Brae repeated what she had already told me so I would remember, and she had me walk through the calls and what happened in-depth.
Thirty minutes after I called, I was assured help was on the way.
Afterward, I lay on the bed, dazed. The one constant thought was whoever my stalker was, I’d find them and destroy their life.